


g.i.n.a.s.f.s

by falldownboiz



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Depression, GINASFS, M/M, Peterick, Songfic, Suicide, fall out boy - Freeform, idk what to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falldownboiz/pseuds/falldownboiz
Summary: song fic based on the Fall Out Boy song g.i.n.a.s.f.s
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Kudos: 7





	g.i.n.a.s.f.s

**Author's Note:**

> * - signals beginning and end of flashbacks

*Patrick sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror; he stands up a little straighter, turns to the side, crossing his arms over his chest. Pete watches from the doorway, his heart hurting at the sight of Patrick. He knows Patrick has been having a bit of a hard time lately because Folie hasn’t been doing well and has even been getting some backlash and a lot of it has fallen back onto Patrick, making him believe things that aren’t true. Pete thinks the album is amazing, anything the band makes is always amazing to him because he can’t believe they’ve gotten this far, and Patrick is undoubtedly the reason why. The only problem is making Patrick see what Pete sees.

Patrick looks up, tears streaming down his face, “Why can’t I be be like you? Everyone loves you, they barely ever look at me unless it’s to make fun of me.”

Pete kisses his cheek, “You are beautiful, everybody loves you Patrick, we wouldn’t be where we are without you.” He whispers.

Patrick shakes his head, “No, no, I’m just the singer, everything else is you, the lyrics, the face of the band, you are Fall Out Boy, Pete”

If you listen closely you could have heard the sound of Pete’s heart shattering, hearing Patrick talk like that hurt so badly. He pulls Patrick closer, his head resting on Pete’s chest,

“Baby no, that’s not right at all, I love everything about you, and so do the fans, it’s just that not all of them can see what I see.”

Patrick nodded and buried his face in Pete’s shoulder, he could feel him crying so he just let him, quietly comforting him until he grew too tired to cry anymore. Pete picked him up and laid him in their bed, covering him up and laying next to him, holding him close as they both fell asleep.

Every time Pete had tried to bring it up after that Patrick would immediately try to change the conversation or sometimes just act like he didn’t ever hear Pete, so it was never formally brought up again.*

That was the biggest mistake Pete made, not pressing to know more, not checking in with Patrick to see if he was okay. Not reading the comments or the articles thoroughly, or hearing all the horrible things shouted at him from the crowds at their shows. Patrick was his boyfriend, the love of his life, and he couldn’t save him.

Pete sighed and shook his head, not wanting to remember anymore, as all that happened after those moments was bad, Pete wished those memories would go away, that he still had someone to help him sleep through the night. 

He wishes those memories were his nightmares that keep him awake, that he would wake up and Patrick would be there to tell him it was all okay, that they weren’t real.

Every night he comes home, hoping to open the door and hear Patrick’s angelic voice from the kitchen, always ready with something new for dinner, some new recipe he had been excited to try.

But it never ends up that way.

Pete wakes up every morning, a painful hurt shooting through his heart when he doesn’t feel Patrick next to him. The shirts of Patrick’s that he sleeps in are even starting to lose his scent.

Fall Out Boy had ended soon after it happened. A mutual, unspoken decision that it would never be the same, that no one could ever replace Patrick.

Pete had no need to get a job because even though the band wasn’t together anymore, the money kept coming from the royalties and records… but Pete noticed that even that money was beginning to run out, the hospital bills and funeral costs that Pete told Patrick’s family he would take care of were starting to pile up. 

He had already missed payments on their house, you might even be able to call it a mansion, it had been an impulse buy, Pete wanting only the best for Patrick. That was starting to bite him in the ass, along with their numerous car payments.

Pete feels like the prince of a failing empire, he wishes he could just leave it all behind, just get in his car and drive.

But he can’t.

There’s something still holding him here, he thinks, no, he knows that it’s Patrick. Often times he just walks through the house, or sits on the floor in their living room and closes his eyes, swearing up and down that he can still hear Patrick’s voice.

It’s a strange way to show that he knows, he knows he’s supposed to love Patrick.

He wishes every single day that it was him, he would trade places with Patrick in a heartbeat. Patrick was too young, too innocent.

Pete often gets angry at himself, wishing he would have noticed, would have been a better boyfriend. Maybe Patrick would still be here if he had been there when it happened.

It’s been almost 8 months now, and Pete can feel it happening again. He’s gone through this twice before now, the mania, the obsession, the anger and regret. 

Pete crawls over to the picture frame sitting on an end table near their couch from his position in the middle of the floor. It’s a picture of him and Patrick, Patrick sleeping with his head on Pete’s chest and Pete smiling softly down at him, holding him close.

Joe had taken that picture, it was back in their van days when Patrick and him had just recently gotten together. They were so in love, Pete knew from the moment he heard Patrick sing his first note, that they were going places, that Patrick was his ticket out of Chicago.

He remembers one night in specific, coincidentally the night before the picture was taken, when they actually had money, the band had bought two hotel rooms for their hometown show. It was around the time in 2005 where Pete had started spiraling deep into his depression. The only one that knew how bad it really was was Patrick.

*When Pete went missing that night, Patrick immediately knew what was happening. He ran up to the roof, Pete remembers hearing the door burst open and Patrick calling his name, but he didn’t answer.

He looked back out over the ledge he was standing on, the lights of the city a blur of color. Patrick saw his silhouette standing against the lights, immediately running over and pulling him down, both of them falling onto the cold concrete.

Patrick was sobbing, that’s what snapped Pete out of whatever trance he was in. He realized what he was doing and how stupid it was. 

The two of them talked for over an hour on the roof of that hotel, Patrick had made Pete promise to never do something like that ever again, to tell Patrick when he felt those urges because he couldn’t bear to lose the love of his life to suicide.*

Pete wished he would have made Patrick promise the same things.

He feels the hot tears rolling down his face, Pete wipes them off his face and the glass of the picture. He presses his lips against it and whispers,

“I’m on my way Patrick.”

Something snaps inside Pete, he tightens his grip on the frame and gets up, going to the bathroom and aggressively opening the cabinet door, grabbing all the bottles of meds he could, including his Ativan.

He grabs his keys and goes out to the car, tossing the bottles into the passenger seat and propping the picture up against the dashboard. 

Pete starts the car and speeds out of his driveway and down the road. After about a half an hour of driving he carelessly parks his car outside the hotel.

Stumbling up to the receptionists desk he asks for a room for one. After getting the key, Pete makes his way over to the elevator, pressing the button for the roof.

Once the doors open Pete repeats almost the exact same steps he made 4 years ago, pulling the prescription bottles out of his pocket and dry swallowing as many pills as he could.

As his head starts to get cloudy he pulls himself onto the ledge, the lights of the city still just as blurry as he remembers.

Pete swears he can almost hear Patrick’s voice in the wind that blows through the buildings and alleyways around and below him, but this time he won’t be there to burst through the door and save Pete, no one will.

It’s strange, he knows it, it’s a strange way of knowing that this is what he’s supposed to do to get back, to get back to the love of his life. He looks down at the picture frame in his hand.

“I’m on my way Patrick.” he whispers one more time before leaning forward, with no intent to pull away.

Pete closes his eyes as the ground gets closer, he feels the cool wind blowing against him, the feeling of falling swallowing him whole.


End file.
